Page 12 of A Lord's Chance
“Have you ever tried to find out?”
Milson nodded. “Of course. But they were delivered to Sotheby’s every year through a different agent, usually jewellers.”
“How about the two of you figure this out?” Nobbie stood up and grabbed his watch off Milson’s desk. “I need to get ready for the Harrington’s soiree tonight.” He left before Lloyd had a chance to react to the sudden change.
“Your friend is interesting.” Milson said.
Lloyd’s face heated. “He’s not a friend. He’s—” He wasn’t sure actually. They hadn’t discussed it and it wasn’t something to be discussed in polite company. He certainly didn’t want his ...inconclusive attraction to men and women to become common knowledge. It would risk his standing and his ability to negotiate on behalf of the Lechti family. His uncle, his mother’s brother, ran the business in Switzerland now, although Napoleon’s rampage through Europe made travel difficult and messages were often disrupted. The Lechti family had declined to send any watches to England for several years now as it was impossible to guarantee their security during transportation.
“He’s what exactly?” Milson asked.
Lloyd blinked. He remembered that he didn’t need to answer the question directly; it was one of the things about society that irritated him but was occasionally useful. “I met him a few nights ago at the Hedwick soiree, and noticed his watch.”
“Let me guess. You harassed him until he let you examine it properly.”
If by harassed, Milson meant that Lloyd had knelt for Mr Gilbert—twice—then yes. His blush must be glowing as his face overheated. The benefit of having an Indian grandmother meant that his tanned skin didn’t blush as readily as a pale English rose, but it was still obvious to anyone who knew him.
“I take it your flushed complexion means yes?”
“Yes. Hedwick invited me to the soiree on the premise that he had a Vulliamy & Sons grandfather clock that he wanted valued, but of course, he introduced me to his daughter, and we never did examine the clock.”
“My lord. Were you distracted by the daughter or the Hobart?”
Lloyd let out a shaky breath. “The watch, naturally. I fear I was a little rude to Lord Hedwick and his daughter in my desire to discover more about the watch. I’d never seen a Hobart in real life.”
“A worthy chase, my lord.”
He glanced up to discover Mr Milson grinning and he smiled back. “Yes. I hate to think what Mr Gilbert's first impression of me was. He wasn’t very receptive to my persistence.”
“I fear that our enthusiasm also scared him off today.”
Lloyd sighed. He had taken Nobbie at his word that he needed to dress for a social event tonight, but the chances were that Lloyd had not noticed some subtle hint and Mr Milson was likely correct.
“Do you think so?”
Milson drummed his fingers on the desk. “Yes.”
“How do you know?” Lloyd really ought to give up on attempting to unravel the mystery of how other people managed to convey information without blunt speaking.
“As soon as we started to discuss finding out who Hobart might be, he made a flimsy excuse and left. I wonder if we got a little close to the truth?”
Lloyd gasped. “Do you think he knows who Hobart is?”
“It’s not unlikely if he has the only Hobart that has no provenance and then he left as soon as we began to discuss the possibility.” Milson leaned forward on his elbows. “I have always wanted to solve this mystery. My bosses think it is a waste of time. We were paid for the cataloguing and the current Duke of Winchester decided against selling the collection, so it was a dead end according to Sotheby’s.”
“I suppose I could attend this soiree tonight and ask him.” Lloyd didn’t want to go out in society again so soon. Twice a week would likely get his name implied in the newssheets as wanting a wife or some such nonsense. He told himself it was purely about the watch, and nothing to do with needing to see Nobbie again.
“And I shall ask permission to visit the Duke of Winchester to see if I can discover more. It has been several years, and maybe some new information has come to light since then.”
Lloyd breathed in rapidly. “Oh, it’s the season. His Grace will be in town, so you will not have to travel far.”
“I will pay him a visit in the morning, or...” Milson paused and Lloyd stared at him wondering what he was implying.
“Or?”
“Do you think he’ll be at tonight’s soiree? If I came as your guest, then you’d be free to talk to Mr Gilbert about Hobart, and you could introduce me to His Grace?”
Lloyd nodded as it would be good to have a friend help him navigate society, especially all the things people said when they were saying something else. “Yes, that is a sensible plan. But haven’t you met Winchester previously?”
